


Singularity

by diashann



Category: Real Person Fiction, Time travel - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:06:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3116087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diashann/pseuds/diashann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>India Siobhan O'Bearain (not her real name, of course) goes back in time to the year 2002 to save a man she meets in an elevator for only a brief moment. After meeting a past version of this man, she starts to wonder if going back was what she was meant to do all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a single meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I'm terrified of these four walls, These iron bars can't hold my soul in. 
> 
> All I need is you. Come please, I'm callin'. And all I scream for you. Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'.
> 
> Show me what it's like to be the last one standing. And teach me wrong from right and I'll show you what I can be.
> 
> And say it for me, say it to me, and I'll leave this life behind me. Say it if it's worth saving me.

I had been on this god forsaken timeline for two years, now. All I'd accomplished so far was betting on a bunch of American football games and earning a small fortune. I'd witnessed 9/11 all over again, this time, from an adult prospective which was still just as traumatic. I memorized all my lines, practiced my unaccompanied songs, and wondered all the while if what I was doing was even worth it.

It had been hell getting here. Or math. Basically the same thing. I had single-handedly proved that singularities exist outside of black holes. While the people of my time were, no doubt, trying to figure out how that correlated with my wormhole technology — I was here in the year 2002 plotting my stupid 14-year rescue mission. I decided initially upon departure that getting around undetected would be a lot easier pre-9/11, so I went back to 2000. I've altered how I look just a smidgen, so as to remain undetected by those who would seek to destroy all versions of me. I've acquired a fake identity with the money 'earned' from football scores already recorded in my future. I have some post-grunge teenager in his grandmas basement to thank; his fake passport, ID, and temporary hack into the database had gotten me to London legally and on a temporary visa.

It was a month after arriving that I met Jack.

_"You can't just go around placing bets like that, it's stupid and suspicious. At least be willing to lose a few or you'll end up dead or worse." A tall dark-haired stranger with grey eyes much like my own had followed me out of the bar. I left in a hurry, trying to escape the wrath of a curious bookie._

_Manchester United and Real Madrid were my teams, I couldn't help betting on them. A girl had to eat, might as well be at the hands (or feet?) of her favorite footie teams._

_"Excuse me?" I said, spinning around in my combat boots to look at him. I had noticed him lurking in the shadows of the bar, ordering drink after drink. He looked as if he hadn't bathed in weeks, an unruly beard obscuring what could potentially be a handsome face. "Pray tell. What could be worse than death?"_

_In one swift movement, he was dangerously close to me, "being outed for what you are." Grey eyes met grey and I couldn't quite tell if he knew what I was or if he was just completely shit-faced. He grabbed onto my shoulders and we edged closer to the alley beside the bar. I wasn't frightened, I knew how to protect myself if need be._

_"I don't know what you mean," I said carefully guarding all my secrets and the inner workings of a girl who was freaking the fuck out._

_The man smiled at me, eyes brimming with tears,"at least tell me you were able to salvage it, that it wasn't lost to spacetime."_

_My eyes widened instantly and I no longer saw a British drunkard of age 30 (?), but a man who was stuck. A man who had figured out what I had and got lost in the timeline. "No, my device disintegrated after I came through. I can't make another one because then the origin of the device would be before I ever left, meaning it never would have disintegrated in the first place and therefore prompting me to rebuild it," I paused, wondering if he was catching any of this, kinking my eyebrow I continued with, "see the problem?"_

_He nodded slowly before rubbing at his eyes. I guessed this was an attempt to banish any tears before they had the chance to fall. "I see the problem, trust me." He started to stalk away in a brooding manner. I reached out and grabbed him in a way that wasn't threatening at all. He stopped and froze in place where he stood._

_"Wait."_

_Time travel was lonely and I decided I couldn't take it anymore. There was a loneliness I didn't understand and I'd been alone all my life, even in the midst of people. I need this strange man, I realized. "I'm India. India O'Bearain."_

_"Jack Downey," he said, turning to face me, a faint smile breaking through his beard._

After that, we were joined at the hip. He told me about who he was, all his weaknesses, all his fears.

Jack Downey was a former rookie CIA liaison agent who came dangerously close to uncovering my very discovery. Early in the year 2014, he was unwittingly pushed through a wormhole with a prototype of a device much like mine trying to escape an attempt on his life. The device disintegrated. He now used his knowledge and hacking skills to create an alternative presence for himself seeing as the 2002 version of him was only a preteen. This essentially made him a shut-in.

I convinced him to join our cover stories and make all my longing for a person I could trust and talk to vanish into thin air.

 

"You honestly scare me when you stare off into space like that, you'll be fine. Stop worrying so much,"Jack said, nudging me as we walked closer and closer toward the long-awaited start of my mission.

I smiled faintly before taking a small sip of coffee we'd gotten to-go from a cafe on the corner, near the school I'd be auditioning for in only two hours, "Jack O'Bearain, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were worried about me."

"You've been talking about this for two years, of course I'm worried. This is your entire purpose of being here," he said, sounding slightly miffed about my slightly oblivious nature.

I slowed my pace considerably and tried not to look as nervous as I felt. "It's no pressure, right? If I don't get in, surely I can infiltrate his life in another way?"

"Yeah," Jack started, nodding, "Of course, it'd be easier this way. You'd see him everyday at school. Just go in there and give it your best, yeah? You've been practicing a series of monologues and unaccompanied songs for two years, you're more than prepared, I'd say."

I gulped, trying to keep myself under control. Being in this state got me absolutely nowhere and I didn't have a TARDIS to climb into and redo this if I failed. I looked at Jack, who was more than willing to oblige fixing me with a comforting gaze, before looking up at the building where I'd be auditioning— RADA across the front of it in big black bold letters.

* * *

 

 

"Your name?" Asked a man with a buzz cut and rim horned glasses.

I gave a small wave from my place center stage before replying with,"Hello. I'm India O'Bearain."

"American," a tiny blonde, also on the panel, pointed out.

"Yes."

"What will you be performing first for us?" Asked an older gentleman who seemed a bit tired and agitated even though I was only number sixteen out of what could be hundreds, maybe thousands, of applicants.

I smiled faintly, hoping the action came off as a silent way of telling him that his aura was completely understood (even if it wasn't really) and wouldn't effect my performance in the least.

"For my classical piece, I'll be performing a Katherina monologue from The Taming Of The Shrew by William Shakespeare," I said simply at the cusp of waiting a brief second for silence to imbue the audition space before shooting forth into a hearty monologue, about how wives should not be ungrateful to their husbands, soon after.

They didn't stop me so I continued on with a modern contemporary monologue, doing my unaccompanied song last.

They said very little, gave a few instructions here or there, they barely even took notes, and it was then that I started to freak out at the realization. At least the hard part was over, I'd thought as I exited stage left.

"Oh, sorry," said a boy with curly blonde hair who had nearly bumped into me on my way back to the waiting area. The number seventeen was plastered across a piece of paper stuck to his chest.

I was almost angry with this tall, gangly figure who had caught me in the midst of scolding myself for all the things I had and had not done in the audition room— but then I looked at him and everything stopped. It wasn't just a one-sided anomaly, he froze, too.

"No, it's fine," I finally managed to say, trying to move around him but he was taking up the entire doorway.

The sound of footfalls echoed from behind me. "Tom, you're up next," said one of the alums who had signed on to help with auditions that year.

"Okay," he said, in reply to the alum, seemingly snapping out of his stupor. He looked down at me, gave an apologetic look, and then dashed around me toward the stage.

My whole body had gone numb. I didn't think I'd run into him, I almost hadn't even recognized him. In so many ways, he was different... But somehow, not. I had to find Jack.

"What are you doing? Why are you running? Shouldn't you be in the waiting room?" All of his questions whizzed right past me as I jogged up to him from half a block away, fresh out of the drama school's front doors.

I folded over for a second, hands on knees as I caught my breath. I held a finger up to him to indicate that it'd only take another moment before I was capable of speech. He sighed and waited patiently.

"I was coming to tell you —"

Gasp.

"That I found him and —"

Gasp.

"I don't know if I can do this."

Jack shook his head,"Wow. Two things. One, for someone who looks as fit as you do, you're completely out of shape. And two, don't be ridiculous. After everything you've told me, you are more than willing and able to save this man."

I stood up straight, narrowing my eyes at him for being cute and funny at a time like this, and he took the opportunity to rest his hands on both my shoulders. "I know you can do this, now get back in there and find out if you've got a recall," he said simply, holding me at arms length.

* * *

 

Hours had passed and it took everything I had not to pace the floor. We were allowed to leave and come back at the set time of our panel but I just couldn't bring myself to go anywhere, too much was riding on this.

I didn't see Tom again, not that I was really trying to. There would be time for that later, at least I hoped, and I wasn't ready to dive head first into infiltration. That aspect of my mission was too important to screw up and should be treaded into carefully. I hadn't thought up a plan yet but, it would probably fall along the lines of baiting him. That would allow him to come straight to me with his own intentions, and after bumping into him, that wasn't too hard to imagine.

The guy with the buzz cut came out and announced that, from our batch, three of us had gotten callbacks. I was one of those three and I could feel just a bit of the weight lifted.

 

"So who all got picked?" Jack inquired, getting dangerously close to actually mastering the art of eating with chopsticks as he prodded a piece of sushi.

I held back my laughter, picking up and eating my sushi with ease. "Well there's me, him, and some girl named Ashley. That's only from our batch, I'm sure there'll be many more. I know all three of us will probably get through to the workshop day after tomorrow."

"Meaning you'll see him again", Jack muttered without looking up from the sushi he was so close to just picking up with his hand.

"Yes."

He looked up at the change in my tone, "Plan?"

"I haven't got one."

"Of course you do," he said, rearranging his features in order to flash me his famous crooked smile.

I squinted at him over our table, which was situated right next to a picture window, in this new sushi joint just up the road from our apartment. "Stop smiling at me, I'm starting to lose faith in why I'm even here," I managed, waving the waitress over to order more of the dragon roll to-go.

Jack also ordered more of what he had for take-away, even though he hadn't finished much to begin with. I knew he wouldn't even bother with chopsticks at home. "Don't lose faith in it, everyday you wake up you should replay that moment in the elevator at SDCC," he said, really nailing the whole big brother thing on the head, after the waitress walked away.

I whispered back harshly,"The moment I got him killed, you mean?"

"No... the part just before that."

_"Hey, can you hold the door!", a voice called from halfway across the terrace level. I panicked, pressing the close doors button erratically. Somehow, a foot managed to catch the door, a lean and tall man pushing through. He gazed over at me disappointedly but all I could focus on was the sound of the feet of the officers who were looking for me._

_"Going down," he asked._

_I furrowed my brows at him from my hiding place in the furthest corner, just in front of the elevator buttons._

_"Hey, hold the elevator!" said what I assumed to be one of the officers._

_"Yeah, sure thing," replied the British fool._

_I panicked again and pressed the close door button at full force. Luckily, no one got through this time. We started to rise, first, due to my accidental pressing of a higher floor._

_I managed to look over at the man in the center of the elevator car who had a mixture of emotions playing out on his face. "You have a habit of doing that, yes?"_

_"Mind your own business. If you'd have taken the hint, you wouldn't even be in here with me," I snapped._

_He laughed but anyone could tell it was strained and nervous,"I take it you're not one of my fans. They'd all kill to be trapped in a small and confined space with me."_

_I hit the close doors button again once we reached the higher level and we started to head toward the ground floor. "No, I'm not one of your fans," I answered quietly._

_"That's a relief, but what's not a relief is watching you sweat like you've just run a marathon. Are those men after you? Because maybe I can—"_

_I genuinely smiled for what seemed like the first time in years, "You can't help me. I know, to you, I probably look like some troubled youth but it's more complicated than that."_

_He stepped closer to me and I automatically flinched. Spending dozens of hours in a lab by yourself did that to you, it made human contact unbearable and frightening._

_He held his hands up in mock surrender and I almost forgot that a pursuit was in play, that my life was in jeopardy and so was his now. "Let me help you," he whispered before tucking an errant strand of hair behind one of my ears._

_I was in awe of him, this perfect stranger who wasn't coming off as sexual but...caring. I opened my mouth to answer him but something happened around the third floor. We halted and then we dropped to the basement._

_After impact, I was conscious but my left arm was badly broken. I looked over and saw blood everywhere and analyzed that he was dead, my knight in shining armor. I reached into his pockets on impulse and rooted around until I found his wallet. I stared long and hard at his identification. Thomas William Hiddleston. In that moment, I decided when I was headed to._

Sure, it would have made a hell of a lot more sense to travel back to a time a little closer to the incident, but in a way, this was him helping me like he'd offered. I had always had an interest in acting, as a child, but that interest was stolen from me by a mad scientist of a father. Going back and infiltrating his life to save him was also _saving me_.


	2. a single call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl (officially) meets boy

It was at least a week after the workshop and I couldn't stop my hands from shaking. Word had gotten around about places being handed out and I'd yet to hear back from RADA. I sat there, empty cereal bowl placed before me, thinking about all the things that had transpired not even a full two weeks ago.

I had seen Tom again, at the workshop, along with the girl called Ashley. Ashley Madekwe was as fierce as they came and I instantly recognized her from numerous acting gigs of which she'd not yet landed. Workshop went off without a hitch and though I had seen Tom, he didn't really say much to me.

"You okay?" Jack asked, standing in my peripheral, near the kitchen doorway.

I pulled an unpleasant face before quickly responding with, "I'm fine."

He stared at me a good two minutes, from where he stood, before going over to the fridge and opening it. The landline started to ring and I leapt from the island stool faster than a person could blink. Being nimble, though, wasn't enough to beat Jack at picking up the receiver.

"Hello, O'Bearain residence, Jack O'Bearain speaking," his eyes found mine as the words left his lips, a stupid smirk on his face.

"May I ask who's calling for India?" He said again, a second later, a bit strained as I reached for the phone and he dodged my attempts. "Why of course, one moment."

I narrowed my eyes at him and took on a pouncing stance as he pulled the phone away from his ear, his hand covering the receiver. "Jack, give me the phone or so help me," I threatened weakly.

"It's a boy named Tom or something," Jack feigned ignorance, knowing the caller could probably hear us, giving me a small wink as I gaped. After a few moments of being dumbstruck, I snatched the phone away from him, unintentionally getting him caught up in the wire as he tried to make a mad dash out of the kitchen to give me some privacy. As I went to put the receiver to my ear, I heard something that sounded akin to a rubber band being yanked before being released.

"Shit," Jack said, shaking his foot to untangle the phone cord from one of his absurdly long legs. I wanted to shriek at him as we both struggled to get him free and plug the damned wire back into the receiver jack. No pun intended.

"I can't believe you", I started, yanking on the cord almost violently, "he probably thinks I hung up on him. He probably thinks I hate him. He probably—"

 _Click_.

The faint sound pulled me off of the course of my downward spiral, realizing that Jack secured the cord somewhere in between my hyperventilating.

"Calm down. If anything, he thinks you're interesting now," said my charming brother.

I squinted. _Was I not already interesting?_

"Am I not already interesting?" I asked, voicing my misplaced insecurities.

Jack paused and it was in that stretch of silence that the landline sounded. Our eyes went toward the resounding noise and then met once more. "Of course, you're interesting. But now he thinks you're playing hard to get," Jack said quickly before going and picking up the receiver, instantly handing it off to me. He smiled at me and backed away to the island in the kitchen and I hoisted myself up onto the counter near the hook.

"Hello?" Sounded a very confused young man on the other end. I couldn't help but smile, clearing my throat only seconds later upon remembering that Jack was still in the room.

I decided to play it cool at the last moment, "Sorry about that. Who was this, again?"

"Ehm. Tom... Hiddleston... from-from RADA workshop," he paused for a beat,"was I interrupting anything? Your husband didn't sound too pleased that I was calling. Sorry if it's so early."

Boy, could he _talk_.

WAIT. DID HE SAY HUSBAND?

"Oh yeah, Tom. I remember you," I started warmly, "and no, that was my older brother. He accidentally tripped over the phone cord and disconnected us. In all honesty, I thought you might be...RADA, calling to confirm my place," there was a sadness in my voice that I hadn't meant to put there.

He breathed a sigh of understanding, "Yeah, I've been sitting by my phone for days. Every time my mum calls my cell or the landline, I go into cardiac arrest."

I laughed lightly before something dawned on me, "how did you get my landline?"

"A better question is why haven't we switched to cordless yet," Jack mumbled from behind his newspaper. I rolled my eyes in response as he lowered it to look at me from his place on his stool.

Tuning back into the call, I became instantly aware of Tom's failed attempts at incoherent backtracking. After five brief moments, he finally gave up trying to save himself and decided to come clean, "I got it from Ashley."

I paused, twirling the phone cord on my index finger, "But I didn't—"

"She actually distracted our workshop instructor while I got a peak at your contact information," Tom laughed nervously, the sound of it making me want to laugh too.

"Wow. Where's the fire, Tom?" I joked half-heartedly.

He laughed nervously and the sound was like music to my ears, "Well, there isn't a _fire_ , per se. More like an underground group of the best actors around."

"So like a cult," I teased.

I could hear him drop something on his end and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing, it was too much fun messing with him. "Wh-what? No. Not a cult. It's ehm... Ashley leads it and she wants you to join. It's like a club."

I paused. "You and Ashley didn't exactly strike me as people who run in the same pack, if you know what I mean."

"Well, we don't. But she recognizes talent when she sees it and the entire point of this thing is to keep each other on our toes so that we all become more well-rounded with our craf—"

"She's right next to you, isn't she?"

He laughed and it was anything but genuine, "Yeah."

"Okay, I'm in," I said simply.

Something else dropped on his end and It made me question his health. "Are you okay?" I asked, not able to contain my worry.

"Yeah, I am... amazing," Tom said, sounding a bit distracted.

I went silent for a fraction of a minute, biting hard on my lip in anticipation. "Are you free today? Maybe you could come over and learn more about the club. Ashley won't be here, but I'd be more than able to—"

"Yeah...sure, that sounds cool," I said, playing at a stray thread on my dark grey sweater. "I'll give you my cellphone number and you can just text me your address."

I could almost hear the excitement building up inside of him as he blurted, "Yeah? Okay. Cool. What is it?"

"One second," I said pointing to Jack, who was no good pretending not to eavesdrop, indicating that I needed him to throw me my dinosaur of a phone from where it rested on the counter near him.

He kinked an eyebrow, feigning curiosity, before tossing the device to me. I barely caught it one-handed. I looked at my stupid Sanyo SCP-5300 and flipped it up, going through to look for my own fifty-thousand digits. It was an understatement to say I _missed_ simple american phone numbers, an understatement to say that I _couldn't wait_ to upgrade to a Blackberry 7210 next year.

After giving Tom my personal number, we disconnected on the landline, remembering that RADA could be trying to get through. He texted me not even a minute after saying goodbye. _What had I gotten myself into?_

 

**01-14-02 09:52AM**

Hey, it's Tom. Obviously. I was thinking we could meet in Regents Park and walk back to my flat together. I'll bring you a coffee, if you like?

 

**01-14-02 09:58AM**

Cool, I'll save you to my contacts. That's a very good idea, saves me from getting lost. Thank you (: Four creams, two sugars.

 

**01-14-02 10:02AM**

See you in an hour? :-)

 

**01-14-02 10:03AM**

****Would I stand you up?

 

**01-14-02 10:05AM**

Well...

 

I laughed out loud at his response, jumping down from my self-proclaimed perch up on the counter near the landline and the sink. Jack slammed his paper down on the island in a playful manner, "sounds like someone has a date."

"Shut your face," I muttered as I walked right past him, out of the kitchen, seeking to get ready for the day.

* * *

 

 

After about forty-five minutes of pure torture, I was ready. I decided on a black and white-striped long sleeve crop top, black tights, faded denim shorteralls, and my worn red converse shoes. I threw a black beanie over my mass of long, straight, raven-colored hair. I decided almost last minute that a little bit of make-up never hurt anybody. I did a very natural look with a red-tinted lipgloss.

On the way downstairs, I grabbed Jack's worn out red and white letterman jacket and yelled out to him that I was leaving and to call if he needed me. With about less than thirty minutes to spare, I headed for the tube station. The park was about one stop away from where I lived.

"Hey, sorry I'm late!" I yelled from about half a yard away from him once I reached the location of our meeting. It was almost heartbreaking to see him standing there, at first, looking as though he thought I really wouldn't show up. Upon making it to him, my heart nearly melted into a puddle down near my feet. He was beaming down at me, cheeks reddened from being out in the cold.

"No, it's fine," he finally said, trying not to look at me too much, from what I could tell. He handed me my coffee cup, eyes alight as he watched me inspect it warily. "Four creams, three sugars," he added.

"But I said—"

He smiled at me knowingly, "if there is anything I know about women, it's that if they say two sugars actually they mean three."

I paused. He could get major royalties for that bit of wisdom he just dropped. He wasn't wrong, though, I just didn't want him to think I was a sugar fiend. I took a sip of my coffee as we started to walk, presumably to his flat, trying to hide the look of sheer pleasure from my face after having just tasted the perfect cup of coffee. _Sweet God_.

"And you know so much about women because?" I retorted after a bit of sobering up.

He smiled over at me, the height difference of seven inches just within the realm of things that didn't bother me. "Well, it was just my two sisters, mum, and I after my parents split up. I'm sort of used to female logic."

I allowed myself a long hard look at the young man by my side. His curly blonde hair was almost unruly, his cheekbones dangerously high, blue-green eyes full of wonder as he sipped his coffee and navigated.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said as sincerely as I could manage while taking in the glorious specimen at my side. He was so different from the man I'd met in the elevator but I was more than a little eager to see the point where these two very different men would collide.

He smiled over at me, "don't be."

After one last right turn, we ended up in front of Tom's building. It didn't look too different from all the other buildings in the area, they all had a modern look and feel to them. So, a bit vintage from my perspective. We walked up the front porch and Tom didn't make a show of unlocking the front door. Before I knew it, we made our way to a flight of stairs. "How far up?" I asked, trying to hide the fear of not knowing from my voice.

He looked down at me, eyes alight with amusement, "two flights."

I stared at the nearby elevator warily. "I take the stairs because it's honestly not that far and the elevator is a tad unreliable."

At his words, our eyes locked. His filled with wonder, mine filled with something akin to mortification. I followed behind him wordlessly, the two flights of stairs feeling a lot more like five.

Upon reaching the door marked 2B, he fiddled with his keys. "I'll just grab the informational packet and show it to you, you can look through it and tell me what you think."

He smiled at me over his shoulder as an audible click sounded through the grey corridor and I smiled at him nervously. He opened the door and stepped aside, ushering me in first.

I looked around the stereotypical bachelors pad, eyes almost shedding real tears at the myriad amount of sports paraphernalia in one room. "And sorry if the building isn't what you'd expect," he said, catching me off guard. Why was he apologizing?

"You mean some posh building with marble floors, security, doormen, and a working elevator?" I shot playfully.

Tom blushed.

"It's just... I'm a uni student and I should live like one," he added.

I nodded, "You don't have to explain to me. I don't judge. I actually can't judge, I still live with my brother," I said draping my discarded jacket and beanie on the backing of his sofa.

I turned back around and he was staring at me, I looked back at him like a deer who had been caught in the headlights of a Prius. It took a full two minutes before I broke the silence with, "So..."

"Right!" Tom said, removing his hands from the depths of his pockets, stalking over to his bedroom. He came back out a few moments later, waving a small stack of papers in the air.

He moved to sit down on the worn black and red plaid sofa I was standing idly next to. He patted the space beside him and I hesitated for only a moment before moving to claim the empty spot. "If you find yourself wanting to move out, the girl in 3B is looking for a roommate. I don't have one because I like my space and having a spare room never hurt anyone."

He was rambling. How on earth was he rambling and sifting through the stack in his lap at the same time? There was no way what he was doing could be deemed efficient in any way.

"Thanks, I'll consider talking to her. Is she nice?" I asked, leaning in a little to look at a few pages that caught my eye.

Tom paused in his movements and looked at me briefly before answering my inquiry with, "Yeah. She was actually in workshop with us."

"Really?" I said, genuinely surprised.

Tom nodded, pretending not to notice my hand on his shoulder to steady me as I leaned in closer to read. "Yeah, her name is Alisa, I think. Ashley wants her for the group, too."

He turned around unexpectedly and our heads bumped. I flinched back, trying to reign in my laughter. "Oh god, I am so sorry," he blurted and I couldn't contain myself anymore, laughter spilling out of me.

His eyebrows met and his mouth fell open a little, I could only assume he was flabbergasted. Surely it isn't normal to laugh after being bonked on the head. "I'm sorry, it's just you've apologized to me a million times and it's only been an hour."

He smiled, a truly happy smile and I knew. I would fall for this man if I didn't focus. It was too soon, flings of youth never lasted, I couldn't give him the time of day even if I wanted to. I wouldn't save him, I'd just end up some girl from his past.

"Are you in any pain? I didn't mean to...." He trailed off, probably embarrassed.

I straightened up, putting a bit of space between us in the least obvious way possible. I still needed us to be friends. "I'm fine, Tom. Don't worry about it."

He gave a sigh of relief before handing me the packet, probably hoping to avoid another collision. "Am I allowed to take this home to look over?" I asked him, flipping through a few pages.

"Ehm... Yeah. If you're ready to go, I'd be glad to walk you back to the tube station." I looked up from the packet and watched him run his hands down his legs, probably a nervous habit.

I stretched out and put my hands behind my head, "I never said I was ready to go," I paused and we looked at each other, "you're going to have a hard time getting rid of me since I've seen all of your Manchester paraphernalia."

He smiled that smile at me again and I knew I had my work cut out for me. I opened my mouth, not really knowing what I was about to say to him, when my phone started to ring in the pocket of my letterman jacket.

I jumped up and over Tom to get to it, flipping up the stupid Sanyo, not even taking the time to see who was calling me,"India O'Bearain speaking."

Tom was practically underneath me but I didn't hear any protests.

"Guess who got into RADA," Jack's voice said from the other line of the call.

My entire body went numb and I shut the phone, moving away from my dangerously close leaning position over Tom's lap.

Tom poked me in the shoulder and I jerked a little, "What? Who was it?"

"It was my brother," I laughed a little, eyes finding Tom's face, "I got in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • I don't know if Tom even likes Manchester United, everything is fictitious except for things that are actual common knowledge (Tom's parents being divorced, for example).


	3. a single lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff and things ensue

After deciding that getting accepted into my dream school was more than worth celebrating, Tom invited me out. We had a brief lunch at a hole in the wall joint that he'd apparently grown quite fond of since getting his own flat. We both ordered fish and chips and afterward we walked around and talked to kill time.

Tom got his phone call just before seven o'clock. We were giddy all the way to a group meeting, I wasn't even sure I wanted to join Ashley's group but I was so happy, I didn't care. Once we got there, one look around and, I could see everyone was wearing their "Showly Rolers" t-shirts; Tom and I were the exceptions.

Ashley beamed at us, having just separated from her boyfriend an hour ago once she got her acceptance call. Alisa was there and one look at her floored me; she was easily the most beautiful girl in the room. Tom was right, though, she was more than nice to me.

Everyone else there had been accepted, too; There was Glen, Peri, Jennifer K, Jennifer C, Lily, Nicholas, David, Lucia, and Joel. There were also two Guildhallers in the group; Beatrice and Isla.

We all spent the following two hours doing improv and talking about how great the next three years would be. Everyone shared stories about a few of the instructors, rumors they had heard. Ashley asked if I wanted to be a permanent part of the Showly Rolers, especially in light of my acceptance and, on the spot, of course I said yes. Why not? We probably wouldn't even have time once classes started.

After the meeting ended, I had at least eight new contacts in my phone and a huge smile plastered on my face. The bliss of being accepted into my dream school had still not worn off. Tom offered to walk me to the tube station as we were saying goodbyes and I didn't refuse him, it was dark out.

"Did you, dare I ask, have a good time tonight?"

I looked over at him as we walked through Regents Park, he looked almost nostalgic. I pondered over a response, sure to be careful with what I'd say, knowing most of the guys at group hadn't given me their numbers because they thought Tom might deck them.

"I mean, _I guess_..." I said playfully, looking straight ahead, a ghost of a smile on my lips.

He stopped and, confusedly, so did I, "What?"

Tom bit his lips, eyebrows merged together in that adorable way that I loved. "I'm honestly still coursing with all this energy and I, selfishly, don't want you to go. I want you to burn this off with me because I know you feel it, too."

"...What?" I asked, slightly gaping at him before he slapped his palm against his face. "That's not what I meant. I just... I need an anchor. I need you to stay until I'm calm or I'll be up all night and..."

I took pause and tried to listen to the rational side of my brain. This was bad. Alarms were sounding in my head but I pulled out my cell phone and Jack answered on the second ring, the sound of O'Malley's bar in the background, "Hey, superstar!"

"Hey, Jack. I just wanted to tell you that I'm probably not coming home, tonight," I said testily, eyes finding Tom.

Jack paused a beat before saying, "That's fine, celebrate! I know I am! We can celebrate together, tomorrow. Just... don't do anything I wouldn't, alright?"

I smiled, "Alright, big head. I love you, goodnight."

"I love you, too," Jack said plainly before we both hung up.

I put my phone back in my pocket and started to walk in the opposite direction of Tom's apartment, not saying a word.

Once we got back to the apartment, Tom offered to make us some hot chocolate and I nodded enthusiastically. I took off my jacket and beanie and draped them across the backing of the sofa, taking up my sitting spot on said sofa, soon after. "Feeling calmer?" I shot in the direction of the small kitchen behind me, teasing him.

"Actually, no. The fact that we ran into Alisa and Nick downstairs has me a bit paranoid," he said, distracted with his efforts to turn on the kettle.

I smirked a bit, "How so?"

He turned to me, "Marshmallow?"

I nodded and he turned back around and muttered, "So, two marshmallows."

I laughed, laying to stretch out on the sofa. "Tom," I said sternly and he finally remembered to answer my question. He hadn't forgotten, not really.

"I just don't want people get the wrong idea," he said simply, almost absently. I sat up and looked at him over the backing of the sofa and found him leaning against a counter in the kitchen, eyes staring off into space.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you seem adamant in warding off any affections I throw your way so you're clearly not the kind of girl who would..." He trailed off, knowing I'd pick up on what he was saying.

I gaped at how forward he was being, the kettle starting to howl. "I have not been warding off affections. What's so wrong with wanting to be your friend? What's this idea that the two of us can't just be friends?"

Once the words were out, I regretted them. I knew I'd be regretting them for years to come because those words changed how Tom saw me, completely. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but thought better of it, turning away from me to prepare our hot chocolates.

Before I knew it, I was sitting up fully, making room for him on the couch. He handed me a maroon mug with **CAMBRIDGE** across it and I raised my eyebrow in silent annoyance before taking a sip of my super sweet drink. It warmed me to the core.

"You are... completely right. I don't know where I got the notion that I could only be with you or be nothing to you. We should be friends..." He said, a small smile on his adorable face.

His words hurt me more than they should have but I knew I'd have to suffer through it. It wasn't our time now, maybe when we were older it would be. At least, that's what I thought.

As the days went on, Tom and I became picturesque best friends. School started and the grueling battle to become the actors we wanted to be had begun.

The first year flew by quickly enough. I moved in with Alisa, Jack's sad grey eyes mirroring mine as he helped Tom unload my boxes. Neither of us wanted to part but it was time to separate, I couldn't live with him forever.

We agreed to talk all the time and he even gave me his old black motorbike as a moving out gift. Things were starting to sort themselves, pieces falling into place.

* * *

 

 

**CHRISTMAS EVE 2004**

 

"I miss going to school everyday, I am absolutely restless," Alisa said, in the middle of their living room, legs above her head from her spot on the floor.

I looked over at her from the sofa, eyes leaving my laptop for only a brief moment. "Well, we could always go do yoga at the youth center," I said pointedly as I put the finishing touches on an essay that we all had due after break.

"Yeah, but it's overrun with chavs," she groaned.

Tom knocked before walking into the apartment after no one protested to his entrance. We generally left the door unlocked during the day. "Ehm..." He started, looking a bit unsure at Alisa's pretzel-like state before looking over to me, "I need your help."

"Why not mine, Thomas?" Alisa teased.

He sighed. "I cannot talk to you when you look like that," he said without looking at her.

I closed my laptop and looked at the man behind the sofa, almost afraid to ask, "What happened now?"

He looked between Alisa and I, silently asking for privacy. What on earth could be ailing him? I rolled my eyes, stood up from the sofa, grabbed him by the hand, and escorted him into my bedroom. He shut the door behind us gingerly and my eyes searched his face warily.

"Roses told Lily that Alisa is coming to my mum's house for Christmas tonight and now she's pissed at me because I didn't invite her," he said, in a rush, blue-green eyes full of hurt.

"You didn't even invite Alisa, Emma did," I barked, outraged.

Tom threw his hands up in exasperation, "Thank you!"

"Plus, I wasn't even aware the two of you were even mutually exclusive. Every time someone refers to you as her boyfriend, she corrects them," I added, more than annoyed at Lily's behavior.

"That's because we're not mutually exclusive," Tom dead-panned.

I narrowed my eyes, "Then, why the hell would she want to subject herself to meeting your parents?"

He said nothing. Only shrugged.

"This is why you shouldn't date inside of our class. Especially after the atrocity that was your relationship with Andrea," I snapped.

He looked at me, eyes sad for a brief moment before saying, "I won't argue with you, there."

"What're you going to do?" I asked insistently.

He shook his head, curls catching all of my attention. Two years had passed but my feelings only grew. I must've been an amazing actress because he hadn't the slightest clue. "I came here because you always know what to do," he said simply.

I somehow always managed to give Tom unbiased relationship advice. It always felt like someone was stabbing me with a knife, directly in my heart, but I managed. I hadn't had to do it in a while but he was standing in front of me with big blue-ish eyes and I couldn't say no.

"Break it off with her, I've always thought she only saw you as a trophy and not an actual person. You deserve someone who will jump at the chance to call you their boyfriend. You deserve someone who will give as much as they take. Screw her, she's crazy and jealous and not the woman for you. She couldn't possibly be, because she's still a girl." I finally breathed, my eyes fixed to the bedroom floor.

Tom took a deep breath, "You're right."

I looked up at him, glad he didn't think I was wrong or overreacting. "I'm sorry, Tom."

"I'm not", he said, a bittersweet sound to his voice as he backed up, moving toward my door.

I stood there, feeling so small, "Where are you going?"

"I scheduled a walk through the park with Lily, I'm going to go break things off," He stated plainly and then he was gone.

I paused, wondering if I should go after him and tell him I was wrong. What I said was very biased, but that didn't mean it was untrue. I shook my head, sitting down on my bed. This day couldn't get any worse.

Alisa burst through my door, eyes sharp and accusatory. "What did you say to him?"

I looked up, slightly shocked at her tone, "I don't know what you—"

"You honestly think I don't know? Roses has been going on about it for days, I've been getting nonstop texts from Ashley." Alisa rolled her eyes, leaning against the door jamb.

I shrugged, "I told him to break up with Lily."

Her eyebrows raised and she looked ready to leap at me, "Are you insane?! Indy, she's totally going to think it's because of me! Lily will absolutely try to ruin my life. Why on earth would you..."

She trailed off, suddenly less angry and our eyes met, "Oh."

"Oh? What, oh?" I asked, confused like never before.

Alisa's eyes closed and she shook her head. I usually only saw her reserve that action for Lily, Roses, or Andrea; people she thought to be a bit shy on brain matter. "Tom did the same thing to you and Joel," she reminded me.

"You mean, Tom saved me from dating Joel," I corrected.

She almost laughed at that, "Nick and I have known Joel for a long time and despite the one transgression, he's harmless. Tom didn't save you, he kept you single for two years while he dated and you didn't argue because you love him but you don't want him to know, for some strange reason."

I gaped, wanting to argue, but I knew Alisa wasn't the kind to out me. When I didn't say anything, she gave an almighty knowing smile, "Everyone always said there was something with the two of you but I didn't believe it. Two years and nothing... But now."

"He can't know, Ali," I blurted.

She nodded a little, "Oh, I'm not going to tell him, but you are."

I shook my head, "I can't. I'm the one who suggested we be _just friends_ to begin with." She gave me a crooked smile, "and now you can be the one to change your mind."

And with that, she left the room.

The hours passed quickly and I'd yet to move from the spot on my bed, so when a light knock at my door filtered into being, I was frightened out of my skin. Tom poked his head through the door and we locked eyes, he stepped all the way in and then shut the door behind him.

"I just came to thank you for your advice," he said quietly, probably trying to gauge my current mood. I squinted through the almost blackened room and saw the huge red mark across his face. I gasped lightly and jumped up to go to him, one palm lightly touching where Lily struck him, my free palm absently resting on his chest.

"I can't believe she hit you," I said absently. Tom gave a dark chuckle, one of his hands finding the one I left on his chest, sending a bolt of electricity through me. "She was quite angry, believe it or not."

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice sounding like that of a lusty porn star. I cleared my throat, hoping he hadn't noticed.

He shrugged, "Emma and I came to pick up Alisa with my Dad's car. He always spends the holiday and the weekend at Mum's with us."

"Oh."

He looked at me, slightly confused, "Shouldn't you be at Jack's?"

I shook my head, "Sadly, no. He's spending his holiday with his girlfriend and her family, in Scunthrope."

"You should spend the weekend with us, then. Mum has heard me talk about you so much, you're practically already family."

His eyes were wide and it made it impossible not to love him as much as I'd grown to. "I...I don't know."

I pulled away from him and he sighed, "Indy, what the hell? Why do you do that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied.

He scoffed and shook his head, "I'm not proposing to you, I am simply asking that you come spend the weekend with me, your roommate, and my family who would love to have you."

"Okay," I said, giving in, going over to the corner of my room to grab my already packed overnight bag and backpack, "Just let me put my shoes on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • Made up a bunch of stuff, I don't own the RADA class of 2005 and I don't know anything about any of them (Aside from Tom and Ashley) but I loved including them. Next chapter will introduce sassy!Emma Hiddleston, and I love it. ^_^


	4. a single parent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> India meets Tom's parents for the first time when she agrees to go on holiday with him, Ali, and his younger sister.

 

"I can just hear mum now, absolutely amazed that you're bringing a girl home. And not just any girl, the _famous_ India O'Bearain," Tom's younger sister laughed around her words from the back seat.

Alisa snorted from beside Emma. "I can hear your dad, absolutely proud that Tom dumped a _lass_ and got a new one, all in one day."

Tom was eerily quiet as he drove to his mum's home, almost two hours away from our flat building in Marylebone. We had only been on the road for twenty-five minutes and I rolled my eyes at the thought of having to hear the two cackling hyenas in the backseat, the entire time, going on and on about what The Hiddleston's may think of Tom inviting me home for Christmas. I didn't care what anyone thought, I told myself, not when I barely knew what to think about all of it.

After Tom helped me get my bags into the car, the two of us got my motorbike up to his flat and locked things up at both 2B and 3B since no one would be in either flat for an entire weekend. We were so drained from moving a motorbike, as lightweight as it was, up two flights and then walking up another so Tom suggested taking the elevator down. Therein lied the problem. In my sluggish haze, I had foolishly agreed and something was awakened. I leaned against the wall of the scary and very old lift and looked at him. He looked back at me, eyes becoming serious and less playful, much like the man I'd meet in ten years; the man he would, at some point, become.

The elevator stopped and the doors groaned and grunted and fear seeped through my skin. But he didn't feel what I felt because he didn't know. He laughed at my expression and we simultaneously lurched forward to try prying the groaning door apart. Panic set in briefly and I looked to Tom, it was in that moment that the doors opened. I gave a nervous laugh and Tom stepped well into what was considered my personal space.

"Listen...", He started quietly, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear, giving me a flashback of our first meeting; the meeting that hadn't even occurred yet.

I unconsciously leaned forward and so did he. Our lips were about an few breaths apart and just as we were about to seal our first kiss, a kiss I wasn't even supposed to want, a car horn sounded from just outside the building. Nearly scared from my skin, I parted from him in a mad dash from the lift and out the front doors of our flat building.

He sat beside me, deathly quiet, while Emma and Alisa poked fun at the interesting holiday ahead of us. "Emma, cut it out," Tom says sternly, scolding his sibling for saying something that I had missed completely.

"All she's saying is that we could probably be to your mum's by now, if not for you and India _shagging_ in the lift," Alisa teased.

Tom laughed at that and not my favorite kind of laugh from him, either. It was a dry, annoyed, slightly angry laugh and he'd only used it on me a handful of times over the years. "Ali, if we were shagging in the lift, we wouldn't make it to my mum's until after Christmas," Tom stated plainly from beside me. I couldn't help but gape and shoot a look in his general direction but he kept his eyes fixed ahead.

"Brother, _please_ ," Emma shot in disbelief.

Alisa cleared her throat a bit, "Yes, humble yourself in front of innocent ears, Thomas."

The word _innocent_ could barely escape her mouth before Tom was laughing, a genuine laugh this time.

"You're the one back there, making your flatmate uncomfortable. You're older than Emma is, you are meant to set an example," his tone was slightly authoritative and the rumble of his voice had me in pieces, thinking about an almost-kiss that I shouldn't want.

Alisa scoffed.

"In my own defense, I don't think India is uncomfortable. She looks just about as comfortable as she did when she was about two seconds from snogging your lips off," Emma retorted after a long pause.

I tensed and Tom shot me a quick questioning glance. "Who wants music?" I said a tad too enthusiastically before fiddling with the radio that crackled to life with the turn of a dial, ending my suffering.

After settling into the car ride, I felt a buzz somewhere at my side and carelessly reached for my blackberry.

I had a text from Alisa, probably more senseless teasing, I thought. _Great_.

 

**ALI**

**09:45PM**

I just want what's best for you, Tommy.

 

_What?_

I took another look at the phone and it started to ring.

 

_INCOMING CALL...._

**MUM**

 

I dropped the phone like a bad habit. It was Tom's blackberry, not mine. Luckily for me, no one seemed to notice my mishap and I was free to sit there in silence, wondering what Alisa could possibly mean by what she said to Tom. Reading the thread of messages between them would've been invasive, to say the least.

The rest of the car ride was a complete blur and the closer we got to the Hiddleston home, the more anxious I felt. My head and my heart were divided but they were both messes in their own right. When we pulled up to the quaint two-story brick home, I couldn't believe I'd said yes to this entire thing. I said to myself that I didn't care what they thought but that was all a lie.

"I can get my own bags," I said, rushing over to Tom as he grabbed hold of my duffle bag and backpack. Neither bag was too heavy and I didn't need to be doted on, especially not here. "It's fine, I've got them," Tom said, seemingly agitated.

A booming Scottish male voice called from the front door as two turtleneck-clad girls ran toward him at full speed. "Hey, Mr. Hiddleston!" Alisa cried out, clearly excited. The middle-aged man, who looked a bit like Tom, took Ali's bags away from her and they all went further into the home, leaving the door ajar.

 _"Where's Thomas?"_ A feminine voice sounded from somewhere inside, I'd barely heard it. Tom cocked an eyebrow at me as he slammed the trunk closed and shivered a little. He was wearing a thin brown Carhartt jacket in the dead of winter and a black winter hat that made his eyes pop. I wanted to kiss him and it was as though he knew it, his eyes finding my lips and lingering there.

"Any day, Thomas!" His father said from the door, the sudden sound of his voice, scaring me away from the man I adored for the second time in one day.

I made my way for the door, slowing down so that Tom could catch up and then lead the way inside.

"Mum, Dad?" Tom said questioningly, turning toward me to make sure I'd locked and secured the front door. He then removed his hat and set my bags down by where his father had left Alisa's. We both perked up at the sound of laughter coming from further in the house. There was no urgency to join everyone else, at least not for me. "I'll take your coat," Tom said softly and I nodded, turning my back to him so that he could remove it from my slight frame.

He pulled playfully at my long dark-haired fishtail braid and earned a laugh out of me, dispelling all of my tension, if only for a moment. I turned around to face him, biting down on my plump lower lip, slipping my hands into his unzipped jacket. "Your turn," I said, a twinkle of mischief in my eyes... only, Tom's eyes were serious again and I feared he might—

"Hey, there you two are. Shagging again, are we?"

I broke apart from my best friend as if he had scalded me. "Shut up, Emma." I said, brushing past her and going toward the sound of Alisa's voice. I was lead to the kitchen. I walked in on Ali talked animatedly to Tom's mother as she was basting a turkey. Mr. Hiddleston was at the head of a medium-sized dinner table, reading a newspaper. My flatmate noticed me first, "Hey, Indy. Come meet the 'rents."

Diana Hiddleston turned away from the oven almost immediately upon hearing my moniker spoken aloud. The action earned her a bewildered look from just about everyone in the room. When James Hiddleston saw me, he did away with his paper immediately. "Mr and Mrs Hiddleston, it's so nice to meet you," I said nervously, "I have heard so many wonderful things about you."

"Wonderful things?" Mr. Hiddleston smirked, "Boy mustn't have been speaking of me, then."

Tom entered the room at that and laughed, "Ha ha, Dad. Did you know you're not very funny?"

His sister slithered up behind him and smiled, "That's where you get it from, _Tummy_."

Diana paid her feuding children no attention, discarding her oven mitts at once. She rounded the huge kitchen island and came up to me, open arms. "I have heard so many lovely things about you, I was starting to wonder if you were even real," the middle-aged woman cooed as she wrapped me into a warm embrace. I was tense, at first, but Tom's mother smelled like cookies and lavender and I was suckered right in.

"Well, Tom was nice enough to invite me, my older brother is in Scunthrope with his girlfriend and he's the only family I have left so..." I shrugged after trailing off, Diana pulling arms length away from me.

Alisa scrunched her nose, "You didn't tell me Jack went home with Olivia, for the holidays." I looked at her, almost surprised. She was right, though, I hadn't told her. "So much has gone on today, it slipped my mind," I said, truly apologetic. "We're flat mates, I'm used to you not telling me things," she shot playfully.

I focused my attention back onto Mrs. Hiddleston who was now setting a timer next to us on the counter. "Well, in any case, I'm glad that I finally get to meet the famous India," she said absently and I looked around the room for a line of support.

Tom's dad laughed, "You're not even looking at her, Di. You are most certainly fidgeting and confusing the hell out of the poor girl."

I looked at Tom, shocked to see him tapping furiously at his blackberry. I wanted him in the moment with me, and he wasn't. He invited me here, but now his eyes were distant as ever. "Where are the bags meant to go, Mum?" He asked plainly, that air of agitation still there. Diana held up a quieting hand to ward off her son's question, if for just a moment, and turned her sweet gaze onto me, "I am truly glad you're here, I have a really bad habit of fidgeting when I'm excited or nervous and I'm a bit of both right now. I'm excited you're here and nervous about how the food will all turn out." I nodded, it seemed like both parents liked me a great deal. But I hadn't come there for them, I showed up for Tom. Plus, who wants to be cooped up into a flat all alone on the holidays?

"The bags can go to Sarah's room, since she's abroad, Alisa and India can sleep there for the duration of their stay," His mother said, finally answering her son, passing him on her way to getting back into the kitchen to prep tomorrow's dinner. She squeezed his face affectionately and after eliciting a few remarks from Emma, Tom was out of the room.

"I'm going to go help him with our bags," I said to Alisa, who looked at me knowingly before I dashed off.

I snuck up on him and took my backpack from him, he couldn't possibly carry all four bags successfully, there was just no way. "What's your deal, Hiddleston?" He ignored me and made his way upstairs, I followed close behind. I dropped my bag down in a powder blue chair in a corner of Sarah's room and turned around to find Tom dropping the other bags down on the bed. "I don't know what you're talking about," he basically snapped.

I was so confused. Why would he bring me here? He was acting like he hated me. He was acting like I'd done something wrong but I hadn't, at least not recently. "Did you invite me here to make Lily jealous?" I blurted, unexpectedly. Even I was surprised I'd said it. Tom gave his dry and angry laugh. "I cannot believe you just asked me that, I'm going to pretend you didn't." And with that, he was out the door, shutting it hard behind him.

* * *

 

 

"What did you do?" Alisa asked, eyes sad as she laid in the double bed, the only illumination coming from her bedside lamp. I'd just returned from a nice hot shower, day clothes exchanged for a raggedy _Mötley Crüe_ t-shirt and loose black pajama bottoms. I sighed and started undo-ing my fishtail braid, hair falling undone in wavy tresses.

Sitting down on the bed, I looked over at her, "I asked him a stupid and hurtful question." Once my hair was down, Ali sat up and ran her hand through it. She tucked an errant strand away, reminding me of him. "Go to him," she said simply, "my lips are sealed." I gave her a faint smile. It wasn't that I wasn't grateful for her advice, I was just terrified that he would kick me out of his bedroom, or worse- that he wouldn't.

I gathered my wits about me and creeped out into the darkened hallway, counting doorways until I reached his. The door was cracked open and I took it as an unspoken invitation, absurdly enough. I slipped into his room, shutting the door quietly and using the fact that his back was to me as the perfect excuse to sneak up on him by sliding into his bed. He sat up with a start and looked down at me. We'd shared a bed before, plenty of times, I just hoped he hadn't been indecent.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked, eyes wide. He wasn't wearing a shirt, I could see that much as the comforter started on a downward descent. He was also a bit shiny so I assumed he'd been sweating, his breathing was heavy and.... _oh_.

I moved from the bed carefully and turned my back to him, slightly embarrassed. " _I am so sorry_ ," I squeaked quietly, hearing him adjusting himself and ruffling sheets behind me. Upon giving me the okay to turn around, I did and went back to his bed immediately. It had to be below zero outside.

"Don't worry about it," he said nervously, "did you need anything?" I nodded and he furrowed his brow in that way that I have always loved, hands moving to massage my shoulders. "What is it?"

"You," I said almost breathlessly before leaning in for a messy kiss, not fighting when Tom pulled me closer and into his lap.

I was wrapped up in his embrace and it felt more than right but I had to pull away. Nothing was making any sense to me. "Why were you being so off with me, Tom?" I whispered, voice shaking. He sighed, eyes finally leaving my lips and finding mine, blue eyes meeting grey. "I ... Ehm... Well. It's been harder to hide how I feel about you, today was the breaking point. Being a dick to you was all I had left in my arsenal."

I moved my hand to his face, the other moving to the back of his head to run through his hair. "I'm not normal like you, I could have gone on forever without telling you that I love you," my words were rushed and my heart fluttered in my chest. His eyes were alight at the new intake of information and he leaned in to claim my lips, both large hands cupping the sides of my head. "I love you, too," he said in a whisper against my mouth before setting back to work with kissing me, probably failing trying to solidify that this was finally happening. Together, we laid down in his bed, kissing and gasping until we grew tired.

I woke up the next morning to the smell of maple syrup, eggs, and bacon. I looked out the window just above the bed and saw that it was a snowy Christmas morning. Feeling a shift in the bed, I looked down to see Tom watching me. A mile-wide smile spread across our faces simultaneously as he said, "Good Morning," voice gravelly. "G'Mornin'," I said, surely blushing against dark olive skin.

He sat up and looked out the window with me. "So beautiful," he said, looking out at the constant snowfall. I looked right at him, that flawless profile and said, "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Our eyes met and he was blushing too.

"I love you," he said with conviction.

"I love you, too," I said breathlessly, pushing all doubts to the back of my mind.

As Tom leaned toward me, eyes hungry, a knock sounded at the door. "Tommy," called the gruff voice that could only belong to his Dad. Tom's eyes widened and he looked at me as though I'd been an apparition the entire time and he was just now realizing I was real. "One second, Dad," he said, trying not to sound panicked as he threw his shirt on.

"Just telling you two that breakfast is ready," his Dad said from outside the door, laughing as he retreated down the hallway.

Tom and I stopped in our efforts to hide me, eyes wide at his father's words. "Do you think–"

"No way in hell that my Mum knows," Tom said, cutting me off, rearranging his backwards _Disintegration_ t-shirt.

I stepped forward to move my hands across the expanse of his chest, I was sad he'd covered up so I edged a hand up under the fabric and heard his breath hitch as skin touched skin. I moved my other hand to pull him down by the neck, smashing our lips together. Before I knew what happened, I was laying back against his childhood bed. His hands were everywhere and I marveled at his experienced touch. "Tom..." I said, voice airy, as his mouth found the weak spot on my neck. I gave a push at his chest to separate us, a look of hurt on his face for a small moment.

I gathered myself onto wobbly legs, heading for his bedroom door. "If we're the only two not at the table, it'll be suspicious," I said plainly as we set to smoothing our clothes and hair respectively.

"You're right," Tom said, meeting me at his bedroom door, pulling it open.

We almost died of embarrassment as we were met with Alisa, fist raised and poised to knock. She put her hand down and gave a shit-eating grin. "I came to get you guys, I slept in a bit late so you two wouldn't be the only ones straggling in late to breakfast. About done sexing it up?"

I straight-faced her and pushed past her, out into the hallway. "Thanks for your efforts but Tom's dad already knows," I said, clearly annoyed as we made our way down to the kitchen.

At breakfast, I was sitting in the center of what seemed like normal family conversation; I wouldn't know. Alisa seemed to fit right in with the Hiddleston's and I couldn't help the pang of jealousy I felt. After snapping out of my bout of self-pity, I realized everyone was silent now and staring at me. "Beg pardon?" I asked, feeling terribly about my constant daydreaming and over-thinking. Today was different, though. I had no control over my thoughts, no filter, everything was Tom and it was killing me.

"O'Bearain, that's irish, isn't it?" Mr. Hiddleston asked, a tiny smile on his face.

I moved my fork around my full plate of food in an attempt to at least look like I was eating. "Uh... Yes, actually. It's my mother's maiden name. My parents weren't married, so Jack and I have my mother's last name. Our father was a Swede, hence the relatively tan skin in the dead of winter. And Jack's hair gets really blonde this time of year."

I was hoping I wasn't rambling, but I probably was. Alisa stifled a laugh from somewhere beside me. "Jack always looks fit to surf when his hair gets lighter," she said teasingly. I smiled at her, in agreement.

Mrs. Hiddleston took a sip of her morning beverage of choice before joining in on what seemed like a subtle interrogation. "So, your brother left you to fend for yourself this Christmas?" I shook my head a little, "No, it's honestly not like that. He's been with his girlfriend, Olivia-"

"The hag," Alisa mumbled.

I paused for a beat before continuing, "Well, they've been together for almost two years, you see, and he's never met her parents. It was pretty important to him and, he figured, since I spend most of my time with Ali and Tom..." I trailed off to think of the best way to paint my relationship with Jack. "I guess I haven't really been the best sister, when it comes to spending time with him," I finalized, with a shrug.

Diana's eyes softened and she waved her hand dismissively, "Well, I'm glad you've come round."

Emma nodded with mock-enthusiasm, "Oh yes, Hiddleston holidays are to _die_ for."

"You'll be doing some dying if you don't knock it off," James shot, playfully, from his head of the table.

Alisa's eyes widened, "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, Jack rang this morning."

With his fork of food halfway to his mouth, Tom stopped and looked at Alisa. I looked at her too, hoping she knew when to stop talking. Of course, she didn't. "We actually chatted a bit, told him we missed him. I told him you'd call him back later," she reached in the pocket of her pajama pants and handed me the wayward BlackBerry I'd left behind in my late-night pursuit of a rendezvous.

I snatched the phone from her.

"Where were you this morning that you couldn't answer your phone," Emma prodded, innocently. I almost screamed. "Must've been in the bathroom," I said nonchalantly, watching as Alisa's face tried to hide the mortification within. Tom returned to eating his food and Diana watched over the situation that was transpiring, almost calmly. James read his newspaper which, conveniently, hid his face.

"Hmm," Emma said, "That's funny, because I thought I saw you tip toe into Tom's room last night."

Tom spit out some orange juice; James put down his newspaper, acting as though a new realization was dawning on him; I turned twelve different shades of red; Alisa's eyes darted from one parent to the other; And as Diana opened her mouth to speak, a confused expression on her quickly reddening face, the doorbell rang. 

Tom sprung up from his seat, "I'll get it!" He said, as he darted out of the kitchen. 

"Excuse me," I said, eagerly itching to get away from the awkward situation at hand.  Somehow, I found myself near the foyer and the front door. My heart was pounding and I was close enough to hear the person at the door. It was a female voice. It sounded a lot like... 

"Cut the crap, what are you doing here, Ashley?" Tom said plainly. 

Ashley sighed, "I came to see you, _silly_. I _miss you_." 

My eyes widened at her words and I moved closer so that I could see what was happening. Ashley had her arms wrapped around Tom's neck, leaning in a little too closely for my taste. 

"I told you to stop texting me," he said, the venomous sound to his voice, almost scaring me. 

Ashley frowned a little, "You're really willing to throw away what we have? Even you've said that the sex is phenomenal." 

"Ash," Tom said warningly. 

She shook her head, "No, you've tried to end it before, and I told you that you were crazy to think anyone would let you in the way that I do. It was when you met that frigid uptight.." 

Tom pushed her away from him as calmly as he could manage.  "Hit a nerve?" Ashley asked, a smirk on her lips. 

"I told you it was stupid and I was right. You pined over that chastity belt-wearing brainiac freak, India, for two years and what did that get you?" Ashley was trying to cut deep but, to no avail. Tom shrugged and furrowed his brows, "I don't know, her love and respect." 

Ashley laughed, "You think she _loves_ you?" 

I'd had enough of what I was hearing. Was I upset that Tom had been sleeping with Ashley, in between girlfriends, for the last two years? Beyond upset. Pissed beyond belief that I didn't notice it before. She was probably giving him a blow that very first day while he was on the phone with me, dropping things in the background. I clenched my fists, the nerve she had showing up here on Christmas Day, I wasn't even mad about the things she said about me but who the hell was she to question my love for him? What was there not to love? 

I walked down to the front door, probably looking a little more than unkempt. "I do love him," I said, causing Tom to nearly jump from his skin and Ashley's eyes to widen from where she stood on his front porch. 

"Ali said you were here, that he'd invited you home, but I didn't believe her," she said, disbelievingly. 

Tom moved aside, allowing me to face the wannabe competition, and I smirked, "I'd like to make a few things crystal clear: A) I'll be cordial to you, from this day forward, because I have to and because I have class, unlike some people. B) Having slept with Tom gives you no claim to him whatsoever because while you slept with him for two years, he pined for me. _That. Entire. Time._ He's my guy, now, and I don't share. And finally, C) Yes, I'm here by formal invitation. You, however, are not. Goodbye." With the adrenaline still coursing through me, I slammed the front door in her face, locking it soon after. I turned and the mile-wide smile on Tom's face almost made it impossible to be mad at him. _Almost_. 

Of course I wanted to bask in the glow of what just happened and I wanted to bask with him, my best friend, but I just couldn't. He had lied to me, by omission, for two years. I was scared there were more things I didn't know, things he'd told Ashley Madekwe instead of telling me. I shook my head at him, a hurt expression permanently embedded on my face as I walked away from him. 

Upon reaching the kitchen, I didn't even try to hide my sullen expression. "Trouble in paradise," I heard Emma mutter to Alisa. I ignored her, too hurt to argue. I looked to Diana as Tom reentered the room. 

"Who was it?" James asked, eyes on his newspaper again. "No one important," Tom stated plainly, eyes finding me. 

"I did sleep in Tom's room last night," I said, my eyes boring into my beloved's mother. Everyone stopped what they were doing at my confession. "And, though I'm madly in love with your son, nothing happened underneath your roof that should worry you. However, if you want me to leave, I will." 

Emma squinted, "I _knew_ it." 

Tom threw his dinner napkin at his sister. 

* * *

 

 

"What the hell was _that?_ You intentionally went and told mum that you broke one of her cardinal rules." I ignored him as I packed my bag, not really surprised that Diana wanted me gone. She was probably afraid I would seduce her sweet baby boy underneath her roof, just for kicks, just because I could. If only she knew the truth, her baby boy wasn't sweet at all. 

"I'm in my mid-twenties almost, she can't dictate—" 

I zipped my duffle bag furiously and threw it at him. His eyes widened and so did mine, I didn't see that one coming. 

"She can do whatever she bloody well pleases, it's her home! I should have respected that and I didn't because it felt like waiting two more nights, to be in your arms, would kill me," I was livid and shouting, the Ashley fiasco bleeding over into my anger with myself. I should've been worried about who could be listening, but I wasn't. 

Tom rubbed the back of his neck, his face turning red due to the anger that was boiling to the surface, "I can't believe you told her the truth, It's almost like you wanted an easy way out of this." 

I was trying my best to reign in all of my emotions but I had the distinct feeling that I was failing. "Are you insinuating that your mother deserves anything less?! It doesn't matter that we didn't have sex, that we have never had sex, it is beyond unacceptable for me to slip into your room in the middle of the night. Don't try to twist this into me trying to get back at you!" 

"But aren't you?!" 

We both stood there, in silence, glaring at one another. His question was hanging between us like a holiday mistletoe and I was the first to speak, "Take me home now and you can make it back in time to relax before dinner." 

He sniffed and I looked at him, instead of just to the left of him. I caught the all-too-familiar glimmer of tears in his eyes. "I know what happened with your parents, India, but we are not them and this is not my idea of love. You can't run from me forever." I paused, watching him pick up my bag. I couldn't lie to him anymore than I already had, I couldn't say I didn't love him. "I can try," I said instead as tears ran down my cheeks, and he looked at me, only for me to wipe them away a kilo-second later. 

I left the room swiftly and found Alisa and Emma in the hallway, solemn expressions on their faces. I had no doubt they'd heard everything. Further down the hall, James and Diana stood, whispering frantically to each other. I cleared my throat and caught their attention as I approached them. "It was really nice to meet you," I said, my voice breaking because this is not how I'd wanted to meet his parents, "again, I am so sorry for what I did and I don't know how you could ever trust me again after that. I've mucked up my chances at a normal holiday and don't let the tears fool you, I'm not upset about this." I sighed before adding, "it's everything else that makes me sad and stresses me out. You have a lovely family and I'd be honored to spend more time with you in the future." 

I pulled at my backpack straps from their place on my shoulders. "Your apologies aren't needed, truly," James said before nudging Diana, hard. 

"We want you to stay," Diana said, slightly annoyed at her ex husband, "we heard everything you said in there and we think it would be best for Thomas if you stayed." 

Emma chimed in from down the hall, "ditto." 

"Double ditto," Alisa said. 

I shook my head after sparing a glance back in Tom's direction, standing in his place across from my flatmate and his sister. "That's really sweet but, Tom and I aren't really in the best place right now and I need some space. Can't really get space from him here," I replied, regretfully, looking between James and Diana, their height difference almost identical to mine and Tom's. 

"Nonsense," Mr. Hiddleston shot. 

"POPPYCOCK!" Instigated the youngest Hiddleston, from down the hall. 

A ghost of a smile touched my lips at Emma's remark, distracting me so much so that, I barely even noticed Diana when she stepped closer to me and placed her delicate hands on my shoulders. "No one deserves to be alone on Christmas and I couldn't bear it if I was the one who condemned you to that," the mother of three said softly. "So you want me to stay because you'd feel guilty? I'd be fine on my own, I'm used to —" 

Diana shook her head, "That's the point, dear, no one should be _used_ to that. I will put Tom in the cellar to sleep if you need that much space from him, he'd be fine. Sometimes, I think he likes wine more than people." 

I wanted to laugh, but I felt drained and weak. Diana looked from me to Tom, like she was solving a crossword puzzle. "Seeing as how a few of Tom and Emma's cousins are coming, along with their respective parents, I may well have to move him to the cellar anyway. The guest room is not enough for the amount of people expected." 

"Alisa can sleep in my room, India can sleep in Tom's!" yelled Emma, from her coveted spot down the hallway, "You could use Sarah's room and the guest room for our dear lovely relatives."

"Shush, pup!" James yelled back. 

Diana watched me carefully and, just as I was about to protest, she said, "No, James, that actually seems like a fine idea. Emma's bed is too small to fit more than two and so is Tom's. Sarah's room has got our old bed set so about four people could fit comfortably in that bed. Same with the guest bed." I shook my head, "No, I couldn't possibly—" 

"I will... sleep in the cellar. No rules get broken, she gets her space," Tom said, dropping my duffle bag. 

I turned to look at him, gaping lightly, "You're not sleeping in a wine cellar, Thomas. And believe it or not, you are not as irresistible as Ashley has lead you to believe," I spat, going to pick up my duffle bag, glaring at him until I disappeared into his room to discard both bags. 

"Did she just say—" Alisa was beyond confused, and when she was confused, it turned into anger and a need to know all the things she didn't. Tom shook his head, warding off Alisa's questioning eyes. He was not about to talk to her, of all people, about this. "I'm going to Sheffield's, fancy a pint, Dad?" 

James nodded, "Always. Let me get my coat." And with that, the men were gone.  Diana, Alisa, and Emma were left confused in their wake. 

I laid across Tom's bed, hugging his pillow against me, just to get the smell of him. For a scientific genius, I was absolutely stupid when it came to love. I needed Jack, he'd know what to do. Things were going so well and I had to go and ruin it by kissing Tom and telling him my feelings. 

However, I refused to call Jack just because I needed help, because I failed to call him whenever I didn't. I would have to handle the situation like a big girl. I just hoped I could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • I don't know when Tom's older sister, Sarah, went away to work as a journalist in India but for the purpose of this story she's already there in 2004. Also, correct me if I'm wrong but, I'm pretty sure Tom's father is Scottish. I also, love love love Ashley Madekwe in real life, just FYI.


	5. a single gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and India make up . . . . more than once

"What's going on with you and your lass?" James asked Tom after finishing their first pint.

Tom looked over at his father, a wary expression on his face. "What isn't wrong with us? Sometimes I feel like she's hiding things from me, She's just found out I've been hiding things from her, it's hard as hell making the transition from friends into more than friends, she has daddy issues—"

James snorted, "Everyone has daddy issues."

A waitress delivered another pint to the table and smiled at Tom. James chuckled which earned him a scowl once the girl had vanished. "She told me she loves me," Tom said after a beat, staring at the amber drink in his mug.

"The waitress?" James asked, jokingly.

Tom laughed at that, instantly feeling like shit afterward. He shouldn't be enjoying himself, it felt wrong. "No, Indy. She told me last night and, for the first time since meeting her, I felt like I saw her. The real her."

A rush of air left Tom's father, "Shit."

"Thanks for the wisdom, dad," Tom muttered before chugging some of his drink.

James shook his head, an uncharacteristic smile on his face, "You're screwed, Tummy. You'll either marry this one or you'll muck it up and end up comparing her to every woman that follows after. Heed my warning."

Tom gulped.

* * *

 

"What do you want?"

Alisa stood at the foot of Tom's bed, not buying my fake sleeping routine.

"Why did you say what you said about Ashley?"

I sat up, a bit uneasy, "They've been screwing, on and off, for two years. She showed up, this morning, because you blabbed and told her I got an invite here. She thought she was getting her sex toy back but the minute she heard I might be on her turf, she dropped everything."

"I'm honestly not surprised. I mean, Tom and Ash are two very different types of people so, on that front, I'm surprised," Ali smirked and a part of me was afraid to know what was going on in that head of hers.

After a beat, she said, "Well, now that I know what's up with her, I won't tell her anything else if it has to do with you or Tom."

"You're taking this extremely well," I said, almost suspiciously.

Ali shrugged, "I mean, I've always suspected, I just couldn't prove it. The only thing obvious about Tom is the way he feels about you. I saw it in his eyes that night, two years ago, at Showly Rolers."

That name sounded so foreign to my ears. It had been almost two years since we all stopped having time to even attend meetings. My Showly Rolers t-shirt was back home, collecting dust at the back of my closet.

"Tom looked like a baby who had just seen something shiny, he was absolutely smitten. He still looks at you like that... The only thing that worries me, is the way you look at him when you think no ones watching."

I furrowed my brows, "What?"

"There's fear there. I'm not sure why and I don't expect you to tell me but, if there's anyone you're safe with, it's Tom," sympathy danced in her eyes and then she was gone from the room, not a word being spoken on the way out.

A moment later, a knock at the door startled me half to death. Tom came through the door, a bit wobbly. "Well, thank goodness you took the tube, drunky. And you don't have to knock, it's your room," I said, slightly amused as he fought to shrug off his jacket. I got off of the bed to shut the bedroom door he'd left wide open, making my way back to sit down all before he'd even managed to free one arm. Did he think it was a straight-jacket?

"I don't need your lip," Tom slurred.

I laughed, a really deep and fulfilling laugh, "Tom, it's five o'clock and you're _pissed_."

"All you do is nag at me, woman!"

He plopped down beside me on the bed and I broke down, laughing. He gave an annoyed grunt before grabbing me by the head, pulling me into a kiss that stole my breath away. My hands gripped tightly at the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. He moaned against my mouth and shoved a hand up my plaid skirt, guiding my panties to the side, thumb expertly finding that hidden nub. I gasped and my hips bucked reflexively.

"Fuck," Tom breathed before breaking away from me, "I told myself not to... I'm sorry." He didn't look at me and, though I wasn't the one intoxicated, it was a sobering moment.

I tried to catch my breath, remaining silent for the time being. I patted his knee, to let him know I wasn't upset with him, though.

"I should have told you about Ashley... I just didn't want you to think less of me. She made me feel like I wasn't invisible, you know. The only other girl to do that, was you. I knew I loved you the moment I almost plowed you down at auditions. You looked at me with those big and mysterious grey eyes and you saw me," his voice was gravelly and shaky all at once and it took all I had not to leap on him.

I laughed lightly, "Well, that explains a lot."

"I really want to kiss you right now," he said quietly.

I shook my head as he leaned in, "We can't."

"If I have to wait, I won't be able to keep my hands off of you back at the flat," he warned.

I shrugged, "that's fine, but we're going to behave in your mother's home."

After a few moments of mischievous glances, Tom reached underneath his bed and pulled out a sloppily wrapped gift. The wrapping paper was, in fact, newspaper and the medium-sized box donned a lavender bow.

"Tom..."

"I got this for you a few months ago," he handed the gift to me, "open it."

I hesitated before excitedly ripping the wrapping off, uncovering the wonderful gift inside the plain cardboard box. A vintage Polaroid camera.

"I love it.." I breathed, too in shock to really process anything but the masterpiece before me. Tom leaned in and started describing parts of the camera. I turned my head to look at him, completely enamored.

"Take me home," I said absently.

Tom stopped talking and looked at me, a bit confused. Something clicked in place for him and he stood up, pulling on his jacket, grabbing my bags to take them to the car.

I was gleefully ready for this and, if I wasn't, I had a two-hour drive to change my mind. I found Alisa sitting in the living room where Tom and Emma had just finished tearing open their respective presents. I had my gift in hand and showed it off to both the Hiddleston's and my flatmate.

"Leaving after all?" James asked, nodding to the coat in my hands, a smirk on his face.

I nodded, "sadly, something has come up with my brother and Oliv—"

"Hopefully he dumped her," Alisa muttered loudly.

After a beat, I continued, "He asked me to come home, Olivia's got him really upset and—"

"The hag," Ali mumbled.

I rolled my eyes at the brunette in the corner of the room. After Tom loaded all of his gifts into the car, he kissed his parents goodbye, telling them he'd be back as soon as he could. Fortunately, there was a bit of a winter storm heading our way early the next morning. I didn't plan on being out of Tom's bed until I was damn near close to starving.

I hugged everyone goodbye and told Alisa I'd text her, knowing that I eventually would.

* * *

 

After two hours with my thighs shut tight, trying to ward off the building arousal, we were met with the familiar sight of our flat building in Marylebone.

I sighed pleasantly, it was good to be home after one crazy night away. Part of me felt like I was robbing Tom of the chance to spend the holiday with his family, but his parents didn't seem to mind. Why should I?

I grabbed my bags and Tom grabbed his new rucksack full of Christmas gifts and we waddled our way into the building and up two flights of stairs in comfortable silence.

My anticipation peaked as he pulled out his keys to unlock the door to his flat. I wouldn't be surprised if my heart rate was through the roof and all I was doing was standing there. After he got the door open, he moved aside to let me in. I smiled at him and he gave me that famous crooked closed-mouth smile that I adored. I set my bags by his black and red plaid sofa, absently wondering when he'd get a new sofa.

Behind me, Tom placed his gifts under his own small fake Christmas tree before turning it on so that it lit up the almost blackened apartment. I moved over to his thermostat and turned on the heat, rubbing my hands together in exaggeration. I could, however, see my breath whenever I breathed, so it was at least _that_ cold.

Tom walked over and stood next to me, "what did you set it for?"

"You usually set it to eighty when it's this cold out, right?"

He chuckled, "Americans."

"What did I do now?" I gaped

"You reset my thermostat from Celsius to Fahrenheit," he said, smiling at me knowingly. "You also rearranged all my cupboards in the kitchen, thinking I wouldn't notice."

I smiled back at him, I couldn't help myself. "Those aren't the only things I've done while you weren't looking," I retorted cheekily.

"Come here," he said, taking my arm and pulling me closer to him.

I shook my head, withdrawing immediately, "No."

I rounded him completely and walked off into his bedroom. No way was I going to strip down in the middle of the living room where it felt about colder than it did outside. I knew if he had any sense, he'd follow close behind.

I flicked on Tom's bedside lamp, marveling at the idea of sleeping in his bed again. It had been a year since the last time, nearly two. It was one drunken New Year's and I clung to him all night. We were both too drunk to even function and we were even worse for wear the next morning.

After relishing in the memory, it made me want to out-do it. I could start by removing my clothes. I lifted my plain white cotton t-shirt over my head and turned toward the bedroom door after hearing Tom's sharp exhale. I smiled at him as I pushed my thumbs into the waistband of my plaid skirt, pushing it down. After stepping out of it, I sat down on his bed, rolling my opaque tights off of my legs. His breath hitched before he pulled his navy jumper over his head and chucked it to the side.

I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, shrugging it off of me, shyly. I stood up, watching him undo his belt and his jeans, eyes fixed to my breasts as he did so. I was self-conscious, to say the least, but I was trying to hide it as Tom stepped in front of me wearing nothing but his boxers.

"There is nothing in this world more beautiful than you are," he whispered to me as his hands found my panties and pulled them over the curve of my backside. They fell to my feet and I stepped out of them, fully exposed to him, now.

He hadn't even really touched me yet and I was positively burning up, which was an improvement compared to before. Boldly, I reached forward and pushed my hands into the waistband of his slightly tented boxers, watching as the fabric fell to the floor. Tom stepped out of his boxers and kicked them aside and something else entirely had stolen all of my attention.

I reached out a shaky hand to grab his ever-growing length, more than impressed. I think I was a little closer to terrified at the size of him. A throaty sound escaped him and then, more clearly, a moan and I realized I was absently stroking him.

I stopped and sat down on his bed, a nervous look about me. "Tom... I've never..."

He looked at me, honestly floored. His eyes widened and he ran a hand through his hair. "Well... I didn't expect that one."

When I was in my time, I'd never even seen people my own age, let alone had the luxury of thinking about recreational activities. I spent all of my time in my father's lab. Tom was actually one of the first people I came into contact with in the outside world, at least, the older version of him. This man was taking a lot of my firsts.

Tom went to the bedside table and pulled out a condom. "We can use this, if you want. I know you're on the pill, so... Maybe that's why I'm so shocked that you..."

"I take the pill for cycle regulation, not for sexual purposes," I responded quickly.

"Right, okay. I'm awful at this. I've never been with a virgin before," Tom said, an edge to his voice that made me feel like I'd ruined everything.

I sighed and pulled him to sit beside me on his big soft bed. "You don't have to wear this," I said, taking the condom from him and throwing it aside, "I trust you and I heard it feels better if...if you don't wear one."

Tom stared into my eyes, "Indy... Are you sure, about this? You don't have to."

"I want this, I've waited long enough. I want you to make love to me," I said, conviction in my barely audible voice.

I pulled him closer and we settled into the bed side by side, kissing slowly at first. Tom's expert hands went back to doing what they did best, roaming the plains of my body. I absolutely lost it when he cupped my breasts, a moan escaping me, vibrating against his mouth.

My hand found his length again and started a steady stroking rhythm. This action broke him away from our kiss, his eyes darkening with desire as he moaned out.

When he'd recovered enough, his hands found the cleanly shaven mound between my legs, two gentle fingers running up and down my folds teasingly. I gasped, my stroking turning into momentary squeezing.

"Tom," I called breathily as his two fingers located my clit, pressing down hard. I writhed and he started to rub in a tantalizingly slow circle. I had already been wet, earlier, just by merely stripping for him. Now I was absolutely drenched.

I'd stopped stroking Tom only moments earlier, favoring lying there and basking in the pleasure he seemed adamant to thrust upon me.

Just as an orgasm started to build, Tom slowed to a stop, moving his fingers lower. He tested me by slipping one long finger inside of me. I clinched and whined but after a moment, it felt heavenly. Then he pumped his finger in and out and I nearly lost it, groaning as he added another finger to stretch me a bit. I'd almost forgotten about his size.

After a few minutes of precautionary measures, writhing, and clinching, Tom stopped. Either he thought I was more than ready or he couldn't contain himself anymore. He looked into my half-lidded eyes and I nodded at him a single time, letting him know I was ready.

He climbed on top of me, adjusting my thighs on either side of his hips, eyes only leaving mine to look down as he adjusted himself. Once I felt the tip of him at my entrance, I tried to be as welcoming as I could, knowing it'd be an impossibly tight fit. Tom thrusted slowly and pushed the tip of himself inside of me while precariously balancing above me, so as not to crush me.

He rolled his hips again and again, inching inside and it was almost like he wasn't breathing. I gasped and moaned below him, my hands moving to his hips, silently begging for more. He groaned long and low as he thrusted one good time and hit the barrier that signified my purity. Our eyes locked once he'd recovered and I managed a shaky, "don't stop."

He lowered his body just a bit, skin dragging across mine, deliciously. He rocked in and out as if he was building up momentum for what he was about to do. I was almost so distracted by how good it felt that when he finally did thrust through the barrier, I was more surprised than in pain. Oh, but there was a great deal of pain.

I screamed out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, one hand finding Tom's back, nails digging into his skin. I knew, for a fact, he'd probably have many scratches come the following morning. "Are you okay?" He asked, genuinely concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he pushed sweat-drenched hair away from my face. His fingers brushed against my lips and I kissed at them before nodding. A few tears had escaped me and Tom wiped them away without second thought.

"I love you," I rasped.

Tom kissed all over my face and neck, slowly and lovingly before saying, "I love you, too."

After a few more moments of adjustment, I wriggled my hips underneath him. It didn't feel too bad and so I moved both of my hands to his bum, pushing at him while simultaneously bucking my hips forward to meet his. Noticing how ready I was, Tom gave me a good long thrust, his eyes fixed to my face as it contorted in pleasure.

Even once I got the hang of things, I still let him do most of the work. I loved feeling like he was taking me, there was very little giving involved. I weakly pushed my hips in retaliation against his strengthening thrusts, moans spilling out of me as my breasts bounced about happily. Tom caught one with his mouth and sucked so hard at my nipple that I started to see stars. "Thomas," I cried, a hand running through his hair as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, his hips stuttering every now and again.

I was so close and I couldn't stop clinching down on him. At that point, I wondered how he'd lasted so long what with his whispering of "Oh, fuck me, you're so tight," every seven seconds.

He'd began breathing noticeably heavier, drenched in sweat, but I didn't want it to end. I didn't ever want him to stop fucking me. But my orgasm was calling my name and Tom was mercilessly pounding into me, knowing I could handle walking funny later if it meant getting the pleasure presently. "I'm...I'm going to cum," Tom said through ragged breaths and that was all it took to push me over the edge. I moaned, shook about, writhed, and clinched, running my nails down Tom's back and all the way to his bum.

Tom kept thrusting inside, helping me ride out my orgasm. After a few extra hard and long thrusts, he was cursing and spilling inside of me.

"Fuck," Tom gasped, pulling out of me carefully before laying to the right of me. He pulled the cover up from underneath us and draped it over our naked sweaty bodies.

I curled into his side instantly and thought of how, maybe, what just happened wasn't too different from New Year's after all.

"Happy Christmas," Tom whispered as I lost consciousness.

* * *

 

I woke up to Tom kissing my temple, one of his hands tangled in the mass of my hair. I groaned happily as I stretched my body out against him.

He gave a dark chuckle, "Careful."

I sighed happily, more than content. I cracked an eye open and looked up at him. Usually, my sight was bleary and I had to wipe sleep from my eyes. However, that wasn't the case when I looked up and saw him, clearer than ever. His hands roamed down my backside and I giggled before burying my face in his chest.

"I'm sore all over," I said, not really complaining about it, knowing he'd want to know how I was feeling.

He paused before running his hand back up the smooth skin of my back, probably trying to soothe me. "Then, I've done my job," he said, a stupid grin on his face.

"You cheeky bastard," I retorted, running my hand up and down the expanse of his abs, "maybe you should do your job again."

He looked down at me, I assumed he was debating with himself, before shaking his head. "We should actually be productive," Tom suggested and I knew it was mostly because he wasn't used to sitting still.

"It's snowing out," I pouted, moving my body against him in a way he couldn't possibly ignore.

He grunted, pushing me onto my back, mounting me. "You're going to be the death of me," he breathed.

I looked at him, voice caught in my throat at his words. He didn't notice the shift in my mood, ravaging my neck with kisses. I was too stunned to stop him, to tell him I had changed my mind. The entire way through our bout of morning sex, all I could think about were those words. How very true they were, even with the hint of playfulness.

"Baby... I'm..." Tom cried and panted from above me, earning a cry of pleasure out of me as our bodies moved together.

After another five minutes of laborious movements, Tom spilled hot inside of me and I gasped. While he was riding out the aftershocks of his orgasm, his hips moving against mine on autopilot, my body went stock still and an orgasm washed over me.

I was quiet and Tom laid on top of me, panting. I felt the erratic thrumming of his heart against my chest, bodies slick against one another. His weight on top of me wasn't altogether unpleasant. It was in the stretch of silence, breaths catching, that I realized I could simply ruin the entire mission just by over-thinking.

The same could be said scientifically. Usually, in the lab, when I over-thought things... variables were over-looked. I couldn't do that this time. I needed to be apart of his life, I needed to save him, and I was pretty sure that I was paradoxically exempt.

"Are you okay?" Tom asked, still inside of me. I nodded as he looked down at me, honestly concerned.

We paused.

"I'm just thinking."

"About?"

I gave him a coy smile before replying with, "My boyfriend."

"Is that the short one with the red hair? Should I be worried he'll find out about us and deck me across the face?"

I laughed, trying to shove him away from me, "I'll deck you across the face if you keep it up, Thomas."

He maintained his place above me and smiled mischievously down at me as he pinned my arms above my head, "The whole point of this is that I'm supposed to _keep it up_. India, darling, try to pay attention."

With a thrust of his hips, we were back at it again. We didn't separate until our stomachs growled angrily. If it were up to me, I'd never eat again.

I stood there, wrapped in a red blanket, the one Tom usually kept draped across the backing of his sofa. We were in Tom's kitchen and I watched him fumbling around in the cabinets, trying to fix a suitable dinner. The storm was still raging on outside, take away food would never make it to us if we ordered in.

Underneath the blanket, I was swimming in Tom's navy jumper, the smell of him engulfing me. I shifted from foot to foot, bare feet angry at the cold hardwood flooring of the apartment.

"You don't have to stand out here, you can wait in the bedroom," Tom said, looking over his shoulder at me. I shook my head, "No, I like watching you. You're cute when you wear nothing but boxers in zero degree weather."

Tom laughed. He figured out, only moments before, that the heating wouldn't be working until the following morning. Wonderful things happened when we actually paid attention to our phones. I had mine in my hand, tapping off texts to Alisa and Jack, respectively.

"I think Alisa likes my brother," I said blankly and Tom laughed at me again. "What?"

"Understatement of 2004," Tom said, pointedly.

I gave him a dry look and went back to my texts. Jack told me how great things were going in Scunthrope and Alisa informed me of all the fun Tom's family poked at he and I, in our absence. Apparently, we'd earned the moniker of _The Newlyweds_ due to our hot and cold relationship and constant bickering. To be fair, the bickering didn't start until after we admitted our feelings for one another.

"If I had to choose between Olivia and Alisa, it's a no-brainer who I'd choose," I said absently.

Tom moved about the kitchen as gracefully as a ballerina. "Well, it's a good thing we don't pick boyfriends or girlfriends for our siblings. I hardly think Jack likes me," Tom said as he dashed some spices into a pot.

I paused.

"I think he likes you, he's just wary of you. He doesn't want you to hurt me," I answered, carefully treading over the entire mess of my last real conversation with Jack.

Jack was who I knew best in the world, quite possibly, and he knew me better than anyone else. So... when feelings arose, it was my job to extinguish them. We'd taken the cover of brother and sister, and even if we weren't biologically related, I didn't want to cross that line with him. The first time Jack kissed me had also been the last. I hadn't seen him much since then, he'd met Olivia shortly after.

Maybe Tom was right, maybe Jack didn't like him. But, if not for Tom, Jack would've never met me to begin with.

  
I set my phone on a counter in the kitchen and moved up behind my new boyfriend. My first boyfriend. He was stirring something around in a pot, covering it with a lid before I could see what it was. "That smells divine," I said to him as I wrapped him up in the blanket with me. He set his big spoon down and turned to face me, moving us away from the stove. He leaned back against a counter, holding me in his arms.

"It is so very hard to restrain myself from touching you," Tom said, carefully, "I can't imagine a time in my life where I won't want to touch you."

I grinned up at him, seductively rubbing a leg up and down one of his. "The beauty of being in the early stages of a relationship is that no one will judge you and I won't fight you on it. I want you to touch me."

"My mother warned me about women like you," He said, eyebrows merging.

I bit at my lower lip and he swooped in to bite it, too. I groaned before wrapping my arms around him, kissing him with all the passion I could muster. I always thought sex was overrated but, in all honesty, it was terrifying. I kept waiting to feel bored of him but, all I wanted was him, I was like an addict.

"Turn around," he said gruffly.

I dropped the blanket from around us and it pooled up around our feet. My heart was pounding, I was a bit confused, but I turned my back to him anyway. I heard him pull his boxers down and then felt him pressing up against my backside. He rubbed his hard length against me, breathing heavily at my neck as he lifted his jumper off of me.

I placed my hands on the counter for leverage and pushed back against him upon feeling him lined up perfectly. He groaned at my neck, kissing me there, before thrusting inside of me. I arched back against him, moaning loudly and he just kept thrusting upward, the sound of our skin smacking together becoming intoxicating.

Tom squeezed my hips painfully tight as he claimed me from the back and I knew I'd have bruises the next day. I let out shaky gasps as he repeated his merciless pace inside me over and over again. He pulled my back against his chest and moved one hand down to play with my clit, the other hand going to palm my breasts.

"Yes," I cried, perfectly aware of the unspoken claim that was being put on my body.

Pulling out of me, Tom cursed and went to stir the food, leaving me a little desperate to say the least. He turned the stove down, turning back to me, an apologetic look on his face. Something clicked inside of him and he was right back to being animalistic.

"Go bend over the arm of the sofa," he said, starting to stroke himself as he watched me. I followed his order, going and doing as he asked. I would've done anything he asked just to have him back where I wanted him.

He came up behind me and my heart nearly leapt from my chest, my soul nearly escaped my body. Grabbing my hips, he lined up perfectly, after rendering a few light slaps to my bum. I clinched my fists and found leverage against a sofa cushion, right as he thrusted into me.

He picked back up the pace we left off on and I throbbed, so close to release. "Don't stop," I moaned out, loudly. Tom didn't seem like he planned on stopping, hands in a death grip on my hips, pulling me back onto his cock roughly.

My body shook, the signs of an impending orgasm, and Tom gasped, panted, and moaned at my backside. "That's right, baby, let go. Cum for me while I fuck you like this," he said, emphasizing each word with a glorious roll of his hips.

I moaned his name, a few expletives following suit after hearing him talk dirty to me. About two more hard thrusts and a smack to my rear had me cumming harder than ever, seeing nothing but a blinding white light behind my lids. I was shaking from the pleasure, barely noticing that Tom was still humping up inside me.

"Fuuuuuuck," he said after a long stretch of silence and him thrusting into my limp body. He came hard inside me, his cock pushed to the hilt where it twitched from it's release.

I laid there, completely and totally spent from an entire day of sexual exploration. I wouldn't walk or sit correctly for weeks, I was sure of it.

Tom gathered me up in his arms and made his way to the bedroom where he laid me down in his bed and placed the covers over me in a loving matter.

"You're eating when you wake up, just a forewarning," Tom said to me, softly, stroking my hair.

I groaned at him like a child who'd just found out that they couldn't always have things their way. "You suck," I said in mock anger.

He ran his thumb against my bottom lip and laughed, the tired sound making him seem older than he was. He looked like he wanted to make a dirty remark, eyes alight with mischief. At the last minute, he thought better of it and moved to exit the room.

"Where are you going?" I asked, grabbing his hand to stop him.

He smiled down at me, "I've got a few phone calls to make and I have to shower and finish dinner."

I pouted, "a nice warm shower sounds nice."

Tom's eyes widened and he shook his head, "Oh, no no no. I won't be able to clean myself up if you're in there, too. You can shower when you wake up."

I frowned before turning over onto my stomach, in a sleepy haze, silently conceding.

* * *

 

"Hey everyone, Happy Christmas!" Tom said, happily, from his place in front of the stove. His wet hair dripping droplets of water all over the place.

It had been almost two hours since he showered, he couldn't believe how long it took his hair to air dry. He checked in on me when he went into his room, towel-clad, to get dressed. I was still sound asleep.

He then decided it might be best to check in with his family, otherwise he'd never hear the end of it from Emma.

"How is everything?" He asked Alisa, once she'd taken him off of speaker phone, chopping away at vegetables as quietly as he could manage.

Alisa laughed at something on her end before replying with, "Oh, just great. You guys are missing all of the fun," she paused, straining to try to figure out what the hell she was hearing on Tom's end, "What on Earth is that bloody noise?"

"Oh, I don't know about that," Tom responded, cheekily, before giving the secondary answer of, "I'm just chopping vegetables, sorry."

Alisa laughed again, scolding Emma for something she'd said or done. Tom rolled his eyes, the two of them were insufferable, it was almost like having a third sister.

"Your idea of fun is chopping vegetables?" Ali scoffed at him, "Where's Indy?"

Tom grinned, "She's in bed, still."

"Tom, it's damn near nine o'clock in the evening. Why is she in bed?"

Tom paused a beat, wondering if he should say something or let her figure it out. Usually Ali was sharp as a whip but she was slightly intoxicated and distracted so, there was no telling if she'd figure it out.

Just when Tom had given up hope, Ali gasped. He could hear what sounded like running and then a door being closed. "You two had sex?!" Ali whispered, harshly.

Tom laughed, "What did you think we were doing?"

"I thought you were comforting her while she was being a good sister."

Slightly offended, "I was comforting her."

"Yeah, with your penis," snapped Alisa. "You didn't pressure her into it, did you, Thomas?"

Tom threw the chopped vegetables into a pot and then leaned back against the counter, trying to process what Ali had just asked him. "Pressure her? Does that even sound like something I'd do?" He asked, more than a little offended.

"Screwing Ashley didn't sound like something you'd do," Alisa jabbed.

Tom sighed, "She told you?"

"Of course she told me! She was devastated, she's just really good at pretending she's not; a true performer."

He slid a hand down his face, feeling like a complete asshole. "I didn't pressure her at all, if anything, she's been initiating," Tom said softly.

"Initiating?" Alisa paused, "that implies that you've had sex more tha— Oh, EW!"

Tom would've normally basked in making her uncomfortable, she usually basked in making him feel that way, but he couldn't. He was too busy wondering what was going on with me. He hoped like hell that I didn't think I should feel obligated to surrender my body to him; he hoped I knew that I didn't have to try to compete with Ashley.

"I'll talk to her tonight," Tom said, decidedly, going to stir the pots of food on the stovetop.

Alisa sighed, clearly wishing she could help more but, knowing this would have to be enough. "Okay. I'll see you guys tomorrow?"

"Yeah, have to give the car back, eventually."

"Later, Tommy."

"Bye."

"I love you guys," Alisa said after a moment of hesitation on both ends.

"Love you, too."

Tom hung up the phone and set it aside. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to collect himself, if not for himself, but me.

"Was that Ali?" I rasped from behind him.

He laughed a bit, turning to face me, "Yeah, I was calling to check in on The Hiddleston Extravaganza."

"Any regrets on not being there?" I asked, shyly, reaching for my duffle bag so that I could hit the shower.

Tom shook his head and something about his expression was off, "Not a single one." I wasn't going to read too much into it, though.

"What're you making?" I asked, curiously, trying to change the subject in kind, "It smells really wonderful."

Tom crossed his arms, "it's a surprise, and the sooner you get done with your shower, the sooner you can taste it."

I shrugged before turning toward his bathroom, "Fine."

* * *

 

"This is the best thing I've ever tasted," I said, gazing at him from the corner of the table where he sat, closest to me without actually being next to me. Sitting like this seemed more intimate.

Tom narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion after taking a sip of his Merlot. "Stroking my ego will get you nowhere," he said playfully, a laugh escaping him.

"I've already had you, Thomas. There's nowhere else to get to," I snapped just as playfully, my plate cleaned completely of the veggie and seafood medley pasta that Tom had made from scratch.

Tom and I wiped our mouths with our dinner napkins, almost simultaneously. The action, for whatever reason, made him smile at me even more; the wine also wasn't helping. "Did you really like it?" He asked, more serious than previously.

"Yes. I didn't know you could cook like that. I'm actually kind of terrified now."

He leaned back in his seat and observed me a moment before tilting his head slightly. "And why is that?"

I took a sip of my Merlot and pretended to actually ponder what he was asking me. "Well, you're bound to have flaws. The entire time I've known you, there's never been anything about you that bothered me, other than your poor taste in women, ironically enough."

He looked at his wine glass, eyes seeming to glaze over. "I don't have bad taste in women, I just settled because I couldn't have the one I wanted."

I reached for one of his hands and gripped it tightly, "You have me, now."

"I do," he said, barely above a whisper as he stared into my eyes.

We smiled at each other before finishing our respective drinks. A comfortable silence spread between us and it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever felt in my life, just his presence was everything to me.

"Help me clean up?" Tom asked, a shy look about him, cheeks reddened and hair impossibly curly.

I nodded, knowing I'd do anything for him.

* * *

 

I laid against Tom, completely okay with the absence of sex. I'd sexed him out and he deserved a night of rest. My body was also sore as hell, the hot shower only helped a bit.

His absent stroking of my hair was almost enough to make me pass out, but I fought it. I didn't want the night to end. I liked being alone with him.

"I love you," he said, startling me from my thoughts. I grinned in the darkened bedroom, only illuminated by the moonlight against the fresh snowfall. "I love you, too, Tom."

He kissed my temple, "Get some sleep, darling."

"I'm trying."

"No, you're thinking about the next time we'll have sex," Tom laughed, tiredly.

I yawned before running my hand up and down his chest, "Well, no shit, Sherlock. I'm only human."

"Oh god, I've created a monster," he managed in between laughed.

I slapped my hand hard against his abdomen in an attempt to silence him, his teasing slightly hurt my feelings. "What do you expect when you hold a girl captive like that, ravaging her and making her feel desired... bringing her to the tallest inner peak and then shoving her off."

My voice must've given away my lust because Tom was shooting me an incredulous look, biting his lip to keep from laughing. I wasn't a fool, though, I felt his breathing change from the spot where I rested on his chest; he was just as turned on.

"I'll do all the work," I pleaded, hands reaching for his boxers.

He watched me for a long moment before nodding a single time, "Fine, you addict, but make it quick. I'm absolutely drained."

I smiled broadly, pulling his boxers down to his thighs and down away from the part of him I craved the most. I leaned up and kissed his lips, a soft peck at first. He sighed sweetly against my lips and I tilted my head, initiating a deeper kind of kiss. Tom moved his hand up the t-shirt he'd given me to sleep in and gasped against my mouth when he found that I was stark naked underneath it.

My hand found his cock as I moved closer to him and I began to stroke him. He was already rock hard and I wanted desperately to ride him but it felt wrong to rush. Tom didn't think so, though.

He pulled me so that I was laying right on top of him, breaking our kiss to move the covers back and expose our dirty acts. He moved his hands to roughly grasp my ass, earning a groan out of me. I rocked my hips against him and he reached down to align himself, giving my bum a sharp smack in the process.

I didn't think twice about sinking down on him, the feeling at this angle damn near making my eyes roll back. I started to move up and down, slowly at first, to get a hang of it. Tom breathed heavily and shakily, looking up at me like I was a specter of his own making. He thrusted up into my sopping heat occasionally, but it was mostly all up to me to get us off.

After a while of building momentum, I started to slam down hard against him, swiveling my hips on the way back up. The sudden change earned me one of the loudest moans I'd ever provoked from him.

"Don't stop," he cried, "keep doing that."

I kept at it, noticing that it was working wonders for him while simultaneously rubbing up against my g-spot. I wasn't all that great at leading, though, I had a lot to learn. However, at that hour, Tom wasn't too keen on teaching anything.

Tom pushed me down on my side of the bed and climbed on top of me, no hesitation upon re-entering me. I cursed, arching my back at the same damn time. I spread my legs as wide as I could to him, openly welcoming him to take what was his.

His palms found my breasts and squeezed, causing me to clench my walls harder around him as he thrusted into me in such a wild manner. "Yes, take me," I managed in between moans and pants.

Twelve rough and long thrusts later, Tom was spilling inside of me and I was laying there, recovering from my own double orgasm.

I could have stayed the way we were for as long as I lived, but I knew we couldn't. He'd eventually suffocate me with his weight if his cock didn't get uncomfortable from its place deep inside me, first.

"Fuck," Tom said before rolling off of me.

"Is that the only word you know?" I inquired playfully.

Five minutes later, we were both sleeping like babies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • Sorry for the sex, sex, sex in this chapter. Fun fact: Tom actually does like Merlot. Also, the "everyone's got daddy issues" thing was taken from an interview, I just can't remember which one; in my story, Tom got that tidbit of wisdom from his own father.


End file.
